The Beguiling Beauty Underneath
by ChessKeeper
Summary: The Phantom never fell in love with Christine so instead of focusing all of his energy on her, he has been terrorizing the opera house non-stop. Andre and Firmin, in order to appease the O.G provide him a sacrificial lamb. SLASH Raoul/Erik
1. Behind Enemy Lines

Disclaimer: Please don't sue me. I don't own POTO, all I own is my laptop and the urge to write for this phandom, haha get it! :D

Title: The Beguiling Beauty Underneath

Author: Chess Keeper

Beta: SomethingIDontKnow

Pairing: Erik/Raoul

Rating: M

Status: WIP

Summary: The Phantom never fell in love with Christine so instead of focusing all of his energy on her, he has been terrorizing the opera house non-stop. Andre and Firmin, in order to appease the O.G provide him a sacrificial lamb. SLASH Raoul/Erik

Warning: Homosexuality, Slash, Violence.

Chapter One

Raoul's POV

I awoke with a stifled shout. My eyes darted rapidly around the room in a panic. I took a deep breath and slowly my heart rate began decrease.

The image of my hands dripping in blood burned in my mind and I had to blink several times to keep the watering in my eyes from turning to tears. Sluggishly I untangled my sweaty body from underneath the covers. I crawled out of bed, and swiftly lit a candle.

It was dark, too dark for anyone in the house to be up, and for that, I was thankful for that.

The last thing I needed was for the servants to tell my brother Philippe that I was having nightmares again. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the mere thought of it. I knew what Philippe would say, I still remember the speech he gave me when I was younger.

_"Vicomtes don't wake up screaming; just think what would people say if they knew? What would they think of us? You are not a child any more Raoul, mother and father are dead and you need to get over it and grow up. I am not going to baby you forever; it's time to be a man. Men don't scream like small children."_

To Philippe it was all about the family image, it didn't matter to him that I couldn't control my dreams. I had tried to go to bed with happy thought, but It never worked. The things I saw in my dreams would terrify even the hardest of men.

I shook my head; it was no use dwelling on the past. I was a tactile person, and Philippe wasn't. Therefore, in his eyes I was the one who was wrong. I was wrong for wanting physical contact for needing love. The only physical contact Philippe ever gave was to the whores he shared his bed with, and even then it wasn't much.

I pitied any woman who got involved with him.

Checking my watch, I briefly considered trying to go back to sleep, but the thought of what awaited me when I closed my eyes persuaded me to get up and get dressed. I wouldn't dare leave the house so early, Philippe would come looking for me if I didn't make an appearance at breakfast, and that was the last thing I wanted.

It was too early to read, I wasn't going to waste candles just for that. Candles weren't particularly expensive, but whereas Philippe liked to spend lavishly I was more of an economic spender.

I pulled out my violin from underneath my bed. I gently opened the case and cradled the violin in my arms. It was an antique that belonged to my mother before her death, and the only thing left of her. It was my most prized possession.

A smile graced my face as I reminisced of happier times. Filled with a sudden urge to bare my heart via music I let myself go. I freed my mind and my creativity, that had been bottled up for so long, flowed.

I started to play, the music notes just came to me and I created a melodious harmony easily.

Memories flickered across my minds eye. I saw only happy memories and my soul took flight.

I thought of all times my family had vacationed at amazing places like the town-house in the countryside, but the trips to Scotland, and Sweden were my favorite. Sweden was the last family vacation we took. I meet Christine back then. She was so kind back then, so full of love and I was immediately attracted to her because of this.

I was like a moth to a flame, but now, things had changed.

She was the moth now, and I the flame- or more precisely my family name and money. It was obvious that she enjoyed the expensive gifts and the spot light. She was a prima donna after all.

It seemed just days ago that I was taking violin lessons from Christine's father. Those times were much simpler and much happier too. We would spend all day talking about running our own music business, me with my violin, and Christine with her angelic voice. Childish optimism ensnared us.

I finished playing just as the sun started to peek through my windows signaling it was no longer safe to continue. If Philippe heard, he would not hesitate to break my violin.

I made a mental promise to myself; I was going to start playing the violin again. It had been months since I had played and now that I remembered the effect the violin had on me, I wanted to play more often.

In fact, I never wanted to go that long with out playing again. I would play by night so that Philippe would not hear me if I had to.

Once my violin was safely put away, I went downstairs.

Philippe and I meet on our way down to breakfast.

"Good morning brother." I greeted him politely. Philippe smiled and returned the greetings.

We ate in silence and when I stood to leave Philippe called out to me, "Just make sure you are back by dinner time, some important men are coming over and I request your presence here." He smiled up at me but it was just as hollow as ever, despite the obvious fakeness I returned his smile and assured him that I would be home at an acceptable time.

After that, I left the house quickly, thinking only of Christine. She may be annoying and demanding at times but Christine was still an important person to me. Today was a special day at the opera house for her. She finally had a lead role and tonight was her opening debut.

I wanted to do something special just for her, but since I had to be home before dinner that excluded most of my ideas. The best I could come up with was to buy her a bunch of roses and nice necklace.

She had been hinting at the fact that Carlotta had more jewelry than she did, and that she was quite displeased with this idea.

I could hear her exact words, _"Raoul I'm trying to be the greatest prima donna this opera house knows, and how can I do that with Carlotta looking better that I do? She prances around with that gaudy pearl necklace, it's disgusting."_

Women, I would never understand the need to wear a decorated noose around their necks.

That's all that necklaces were, a decorated shiny noose.

By the time, I had purchased the necklace and the roses, along with somebody to deliver the roses it was already nearing noon.

For lunch I bought an apple and leisurely strolled through town. I stopped at several places. The first place I stopped was at carpenter's shop, this is where I bought a beautiful decorated brush with the intent to also give this to Christine later.

The second place I stopped was for me. I bought a tune up case and a few other things for my violin. The man behind the counter eyed me strangely, but luckily, he didn't seem to know who I was.

Not wanting to go home, I decided to bide my time somewhere else. I picked the library and made myself comfortable their. Before I knew it, the clock was chiming 3:00 and a librarian was telling me that I needed to leave.

After leaving the library, I went straight to the opera house. I walked swiftly through the front doors intent on heading straight to Christine's dressing room where I knew that she would be getting ready for later.

I was stopped mid-stride by Andre and Firmin.

"Vicomte! Vicomte!"

I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to simply walk away ignoring both of them.

"Monsieur Firmin, Monsieur Andre. Good evening to you both, I hope that tonight's show goes off with out an incident." I spoke easily falling into my Vicomte role. "This is Christine's big night."

The manager exchanged nervous looks. My eyebrows shot up, "Do you think-"

Andre interrupted me, "Don't worry Vicomte, the Opera Ghost won't ruin tonight's performance. We have made a… a bargain with the ghost, you see?" He and Firmin exchanged glances again.

I felt out of the loop and I had the urge to inquire about the bargain they had struck, but I remembered if I didn't get to Christine's dressing room soon Madame Giry wouldn't let me speak with her.

I nodded and bid them a farewell.

I found Christine in her dressing room sitting in front of the mirror. I smiled at her and she immediately started talking. I tried to listen, but it was harder than it seemed. My lack of interest must have shown through.

"Raoul are you even listening to me?" Christine asked pilling her long hair into a bun on the back of her head. She checked the mirror and smiled approvingly, then turned and frowned at me.

"Of course darling, you were just telling me the most interesting thing I have heard all day." I replied faking a smile. I honestly didn't actually hear a word that she had said. I was too lost in my own little world.

"You're so sweet Raoul." Christine gushed and continued prattling on about frivolous things.

I was not interested in her jewelry or her new best friend Carlotta, nor would I ever be. I did not speak my mind though, I smiled and nodded instead, but inside I could feel my aggravation rising.

"Raoul you are going to watch my performance, aren't you?" Christine asked turning away from the mirror. He eyed bored holes in mine; I gulped and reassured her that I would be there.

"Of course Christine. I wouldn't miss it for the world." She smiled and it lit up her face, she looked beautiful and I momentarily forgot about Philippe's stern reminder to be home before dinner. I had also forgotten how much Christine annoyed me earlier.

"Wonderful, during the intermission will you meet me backstage?" She asked eyes shining with excitement. I hadn't seen her like this in a long time. She was much more beautiful when she was vibrant and not being petty.

Realization dawned on me and I panicked, my plan was to leave after the first act and later just praise her on how well she opened the show, carefully leaving out the part's I had missed.

I hesitated to agree to meet her. Was facing my brothers wrath worth her happiness?

"Raoul?"

"Sorry Christine I was just thinking that- that sounds like a wonderful idea. I have something else to give you."

"You do? The roses were lovely by the way. Thank you."

"Yes, I'm must be going now though, I wouldn't want to distract you from preparing for the show." I bid her adieu, kissed her hand politely and added, "I shall give you your gift when I see you later." Then I left.

I went straight home; luck was on my side because Philippe wasn't there.

I put the brush that I had bought for Christine safely in my jacket pocket, and informed a servant that I wished to take a bath. Then I slid my violin tune up case under the bed and made my way to the bathroom.

Once the tub had been filled to the brim with steaming hot water, I stripped down to the nude and got in.

It was not often I was grateful for my family's wealth. Money often brought problems, but the ability to bathe everyday was one thing that I loved about having money, that and the massive library we had. Sinking down in the water, I let myself relax.

When I opened my eyes, again, it was sometime later and the water was chilly. I hastily got out and dried off. Then I quickly dressed in an expensive outfit and readied myself to make an appearance at the Opera.

Leaving the house without a word I quickly signaled the stagecoach to take me to the Opera house. Once I arrived, I ordered Jonathan- my stagecoach, to leave.

It was a lovely night, and I would walk home instead.

He nodded obediently and left. He had a family and it would have been rude to keep him waiting on me.

Unsurprisingly, the Opera Populaire was sold out for Christine's performance. I easily dogged though the crowds to my usual seat. I buried my face into the pamphlet, and to anyone who did not know me it looked as if I was eagerly reading it to discovering who was playing whom. I continued to fake busyness until the lights dimmed and the show began.

Christine's singing was beautiful. There were several times through out the show I felt as If I should jump up on stage and comfort her.

She played her part extremely well.

By the time the first two act were over and the intermission arrived all thoughts of leaving early had slipped out of my mind.

I stood from my seat and excused myself. Then I made my way up backstage to meet with Christine. When I arrived at her dressing room, no one was there. I ran my finger over the brush in my jacket pocket to reassure myself. I took a seat and waited.

Christine would come; she was the one to suggest the idea to begin with.

It was just taking her longer to sneak away. She was the show's star and Madame Giry was bound to keep a constant eye on her.

I waited, and waited. I checked my pocket watch; the second part of the opera would begin in 5 minutes. I sighed forlorn. Either Christine had forgotten about me or she could not slip away. It was almost certain it was the first. This wasn't the first time she had got caught up in the moment and completely forgot about me.

I slowly closed my watch and pocketed it, ready to leave. Since Christine had forgotten about me, I surely was not going to stick around and wallow in my sorrow.

I turned; ready to leave but instead I came face to face with a large chest.

"Excuse me, Monsieur." I apologized trying to slide past him, but he grabbed my shoulder. I looked up at him; he was tall and smiling broadly. I could see his teeth; they were yellow and cooked.

"You'll do just fine." His voice was deep, and I could smell his foul breath. He slammed me up against the wall effectively trapping me. I was about to question him about his rudeness when a rag was pressed harshly against my mouth and nose. I struggled, but his large arms wrapped around me and held me still.

My lungs unwillingly filled with the chemical smell and my vision swam.

I lurched forward and fell.


	2. Beauty And The Beast

Warning(s): Homosexuality, Gay people, and Violence.

Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul

**A/N:** There has been some major chapter combinations. This chapter is a combination of what use to be chapter's 2 and 4. So if you read this before 8/11/11 you may be confused. Also Chapter 3 is a combination of chapters 3 and 5**.**

Beta: SomethingIDontKnow

Chapter Two

Erik's POV

At first I was appalled and the managers idea. They wanted to bestow a sacrificial lamb upon me, someone I could take out my rage on. I had apparently been bothering opera house too much for their tastes.

Normally I would have vehemently refused and doubled my mischief making just in spite of them… but something made me hesitate. I chalked it up to curiosity.

I was curious who was going to be the sacrifice.

I knew for sure it would not be someone important, like Carlotta or Christine, or even Meg.

My curiosity was peaked, so I decided to humor the mangers. I would hear them out. If I was displeased, I could always hang them from the rafters with my Punjab lasso.

I picked up the note they had sent me and read it again.

_O.G, we wish to appease you. Everyone fears you, so much so that half of the girls refuse to even show up for practice. _

_This is unacceptable. _

_We offer you a sacrifice, so that you may leave the girls alone and focus solely on the lamb. _

_We will deliver it, Friday after the performance at 12:00 midnight. We will leave it on the stage, sedated. _

_Do as you wish with it._

I folded the note back up and out it in my pocket. The managers were getting cockier. I would have to fix that soon, right after I discovered just what they had planned for tonight.

The nerve of the managers was infuriating.

When I arrived at the stage, exactly at midnight, I was met with a shocking sight.

Exactly as promised, no one was there, but in the center of the stage, there was a bound man. His hands were tied in front of him, his feet were bound also. I knew instantly who the man was; he was the Vicomte de Changy.

I had seen him around the Opera house. He was a patron, now he was my little lamb.

I could have just left him there, and continued to terrorize the world, but... I realized I didn't want to.

I wanted to take him with me, and I always got what I wanted.

Carefully I scooped him up. He was light; he obviously didn't eat much, which was good. It would not be such a shock to his system when he started eating the same foods that I ate.

Madame Giry could only provide me with so much, most foods wouldn't store properly. I ate what I could.

I swiftly made my way through the underground tunnels and to my private room. I was thankful that Madame Giry had finally convinced me to get rid of my coffin bed and purchase a normal bed.

I sat him on the bed, and then I cut his bindings. I cut the rope binding his feet first then his hands, careful not to mar his perfect smooth skin. Then I went to retrieve a glass of water. The Vicomte was sure to be thirsty when he woke up.

I sat the glass down on a table beside the bed and sat down next to him. I took this time to examine him.

He was tall, not taller than me, but at least 6 feet tall. His hair was a medium brown. It was normally neatly brushed and styled fashionably, but now it was in disarray and tangled. I felt a sudden urge to run my fingers through it to untangle it, so I did. It was soft also. Much softer than my own.

His complexion was fair and smooth and I could already see the chemical burn forming around his mouth and nose.

It looked painful; I knew that it would be. I added that to my mental list, the sacrificial lamb didn't come willingly. Surely, the managers knew the Vicomte; they must have known he was important. He was going to be missed and people were going to look for him.

I didn't matter to me though.

I was safe deep within my tunnels; no one would be able to find me.

I was pulled out of my internal thoughts by a sob. Dumbfounded I looked down at the Vicomte, tears were pouring from his closed eyes. I felt something tug at my heartstrings and guilt welled up in my chest.

Just my presence must terrify the man. I was compelled to speak to him, soothe him. I pulled his unconscious body close to mine, it was actually quite cold down here, I reasoned with myself, if he died from a cold that would be terribly anti-climatic. I was only holding him close to keep him warm, not because of the pitiful sounds he was making.

"Please don't cry anymore."

I just had my arm around him, but he turned and buried his face into my chest. "m rry." I stranded my ears to hear what he was saying.

"I'm sorry." He repeated.

"Don't cry. It's ok. Am I so horrible that even in your sleep you fear my presence?" I asked emotions going haywire. His arms tightened around me and his breathing was erratic.

I tentatively wrapped my arms around him, and now he was practically lying on top of me now. "Just don't cry anymore. I can take your hatred, the tears though, I cannot." I heard him whimper.

My hands twitched and they buried in his hair. I stroked his soft hair, for the first time in my life offering comfort.

The Vicomte stirred, his eyes twitched and I could tell, any second he would awaken and shove me away. His body stiffened and he drew back from me.

He was awake now.

Large blue eyes looked up at me and I was suddenly left breathless, they were beautiful.

Oh god, he was beautiful and I was just as hideous and deformed as ever.

This would never work, just what in the hell was I thinking?

His blue eyes flickered open and they focused in on my face. His eyes automatically went to my mask. My teeth clenched and my anger flared. I decided not to voice my anger, I just handed him a glass of water. "Drink slowly."

He didn't drink slowly. The man gulped down the water like he hadn't drunk anything in days. He cringed and dropped the glass as the water spilled out of his lips and down his chin. My eyes followed the water droplets. I handed him a towel even though I wanted to wipe the water away myself, but that would be crossing a boundary I wasn't sure I wanted to cross.

"Clean your self up." I ordered quickly standing and leaving.

I slipped out of the room and carefully made sure the door was locked. I didn't think that the Vicomte would be up wandering around my tunnels trying to escape, not in the condition that he was in... Better safe than sorry though.

I poured the Vicomte a new glass of water, one that he wouldn't drop this time. I felt guilty for snapping at the boy earlier, I was harsher that I needed to be. The Vicomte was drugged, not in his right mind.

The name Philippe just irritated me. Who was this Philippe the Vicomte was calling out for in his sleep? A lover perhaps…?

My jaw clenched in an emotion I didn't feel often, jealousy.

This Philippe would obviously want to have his lover back, he'd fight for him. An idea quickly passed through my head; maybe I could fight Philippe for the right to the Vicomte.

The Vicomte was mine. How dare any other person have him.

All thoughts off violence fled my mind the second the Vicomte called out for Philippe again. My heart clenched. It would be nice to hear my name from someone other that Madame Giry. I wanted Raoul to call out my name, but I had no real right over him. True, he was my prisoner but he didn't deserve this.

I knew better that anyone how evil I was. How cruel and uncaring I could be. I was the incarnation of the devil; I was the devil's child. I was disgusted by my own reflection and he surely would be too. I couldn't blame him, I couldn't even look in the mirror.

My fists clenched together. I stood, the room was closing in on me and it was suddenly hard to breathe. I needed to get out; I needed to play something. My piano called out to me. It was a call I couldn't refuse.

I set the glass down. Then I left and went to the music room. My music room was my place of refuge. It had almost every instrument ever made. I spent most of my free time there.

As I got older, I came to the realization that there were not enough hours in the day for me. I slept less and terrorized more and I played my piano more. It was obvious if you looked at me that I was not sleeping well. My striking yellow eyes were underlined with thick, black, dark circles. They were very prominent against my white, near translucent, skin.

I sighed. My music reflected my mood, depressing and melancholy.

Only a musician could understand how my fingers seemed to glide over the ivory keys, they erupted into an emotional symphony.

Time ceased to matter when I played.

I could play for days with out sleep, food, or rest. Music had that power over me, and I had yet to meet anybody who was affected by music as I was. I knew that I wouldn't either. I was a freak and music could not reject me. It nurtured me and held me close.

Slowly my music haze began to fade and I heard the screams. Raoul was screaming for me. I smirked; if I could not have him screaming out my name in pleasure then he could scream my name out in frustration all he wanted.

It did not bother me. Most things did not bother me any more. Most days I was comfortably numb.

Numb was good. I could handle numb.

Eventually I grew tired of hearing the Vicomte yell. It was putting a damper on my numb mood.

I dragged myself over to the door-less room. It was my newest creation. I had altered my private room just last month after I was struck with sudden inspiration.

The entire room was just a mind trick.

Once inside there were no visible doors, but outside and with a certain knowledge there were actually several doors. I had originally planned for the room to be a torture room, but I grew to love the room.

I stood in front of the door, waiting. Slowly I took a key, from around my neck, and slid it in the key hole. I slipped into the room unnoticed.

The Vicomte was back in the bed. His head was resting comfortably against the pillow. I cautiously approached him. Gently I shook his shoulders rousing him from a light sleep.

"You're awake." I stated taking a step back away from him. We were too close. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't deal with uncomfortable well, it made me angry.

"Do you think that this time you could drink some water with out vomiting everywhere and then proceeding to faint?" I asked, handing the Vicomte another glass of water. He nodded and took the glass. After he was finished he handed it back to me.

He hesitated for a second but finally asked the question that was on his mind. "Who exactly are you and why did you kidnap me?"

My lips twitched and I frowned. I was momentarily offended. I wasn't the one who kidnapped the man. He was given to me, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"Who say's I kidnapped you? And I believe you know who I am." I could see him visibly gulp. His Adams apple bobbed and I felt my eyes lock in on that sight.

"You kidnapped me! I know that you did." He paused for a brief second stumbling over himself. "Why else would I be here if I wasn't forced to be."

I scowled, that last comment stung a little. "Well dear Vicomte, does it really matter? I think not." My lip curled and my eye twitched in frustration. I wanted to be at least amiable with him, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen.

"It matters to-" I interrupted him, this conversation was not going anywhere pleasant fast.

"Who's Philippe?" I asked with out thinking. If I was a man with less control I would have covered my mouth and blushed.

A look of confusion flew across the Vicomte's face. "Wait, what?"

My teeth ached as they clenched together again. My control was quickly slipping. "I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."

He stubbornly shot back. "I don't see why I have to tell you. You refuse to tell me just why you kidnapped me, so I refuse to tell you anything."

"Tell me now." a sense of foreboding hung in the heavy. I wanted to know who Philippe was…but then again once he said it, my illusion or delusion would shatter. I would have to let him go.

"Philippe is the only person I have left in the world, he's-"

I jumped away from the bed and hissed at him. "No more! Quiet, I don't care. You wanted to know why I kidnapped you right. Well I kidnapped you because I felt like it and now if you try to escape me I might just kill you- because I feel like it." I growled and it sounded remarkably like a wolf. I grabbed him by his shirt and dropped him harshly back onto the bed.

He moved away from me and back against the headboard. Our eyes met and I could feel the hate in his eyes on my back as I turned and stormed out.


	3. Brother Where Art Thou

Title: The Beguiling Beauty Underneath

Warning(s): Homosexuality, Gay people, and Violence.

Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul

**A/N:** There has been some major chapter combinations. This chapter is a combination of what use to be chapter's 2 and 4. So if you read this before 8/11/11 you may be confused. Also Chapter 3 is a combination of chapters 3 and 5**.**

**A/N2: **Out of school, so updated might be more frequent. It all depends on my muse.

Beta: SomethingIDontKnow

Chapter Three

Raoul's POV

Slowly I opened my eyes. I was being held. My brain was hazy and I couldn't recall where exactly I was. I couldn't focus on anything but the arms wrapped firmly around me; I didn't want them to let me go. I wanted to spend forever in these arms. It was so comfortable.

I had two options.

Option 1: Wake up.

Option 2: Snuggle deeper in the chest and go back to sleep.

Before I could make my decision, it was made for me.

I was peeled off the comfortable chest and gently arranged back on the bed. My head thumbed painfully in protest. My vision blurred and my stomach cramped horribly. I moaned pitifully and buried my face in my arm. Hissing in pain I quickly yanked my arm away as burning white-hot pain shot through me. I made a mental note not to touch my face again.

My eyes locked with his. Why was the Phantom of the Opera in my bedroom? Then the memories all came rushing back to me. I had been kidnapped, and not just by some thugs, I had been kidnapped by the Phantom of the Opera.

Oh god was the man intimidating too. He was large and imposing, his white mask standing out starkly against his dark hair. His face was chiseled but still terrifying. His eyes were burning and an unusual color, they reminded me of cat eyes. We held eye contact as long as I could stand. He refused to blink and his eyes unnerved me. They were yellow and piercing.

He wasn't what I pictured when I first heard of the Opera ghost. I expected him to be much different, less man like and more ghost like.

He handed me glass of water startling me out of my thought. "Drink slowly." He commanded

I didn't obey him, an instantly regretted it. Grasping the glass with shaky hands I brought it to my lips and gulped the water down greedily trying to cure the desert in my mouth, but instead my stomach protested horribly. Doubling over in pain I coughed, the water in my mouth dripped down my chin and I dropped the glass, which soaked me in water, rolled off the bed, and shattered on the stone ground.

The Phantom made a huffing noise, a sound I heard my father make many times when I had done some thing foolish. I looked up, and he handed me a towel. "Clean your self up." He ordered and left me there alone. I was too out of it to see where he had gone. It was like he had just disappeared in thin air

For a brief second I thought about fleeing. I knew I was under the Opera Populaire; surely, it wouldn't be too hard to find an exit. Then I looked around and surprisingly, there were no doors. There were no doors at all. I was trapped. Trapped under the Opera Populaire with the Phantom of the Opera himself.

He was going to kill me, just like he had killed Joseph Buquet. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I really didn't want to die, especially not in this god-forsaken room. My vision swam again and I felt my stomach turn.

I groaned, "No, god no." my stomach contracted again and I stood, dropped to my knees and heaved.

Unconsciousness swallowed me up again.

_"Baby brother, wake up… Raoul, RAOUL!"_

_Slowly I opened my eyes and blinked several times. "Philippe?"_

_"Who else would it be Raoul? Who else calls you baby brother?" He grinned._

_"No one. Where are we?" I asked looking around. The room was unfamiliar; it was an array of browns and comfortable neutral colors._

_"The beach obviously. You're the one who suggested it to Father." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Are you okay Raoul?"_

_I nodded even though I didn't feel the least bit okay. My stomach was churning and I felt sick._

_"Okay, well good. Father and I are going to diner, you're going to stay here with Samantha." Philippe said._

_"Samantha's dead." I stated. She was my nanny when I was younger, and she had been dead ever since I was 13. _

_Philippe rolled his eyes, "Look I don't have time for your silly games." He sighed. Then he turned from me and walked swiftly out of the room, leaving the door open._

_"Wait Philippe" I called out to him, but there was no answer. I got out of bed and wandered out the door. "Philippe!" I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find him._

_I walked outside the house; we were really at the beach. It was beautiful. I hadn't been to the ocean since I was a kid. __The sun was low in the sky making the clouds pink. The ocean was rough, violent waves crashed on the shore leaving a trail of seaweed behind. Some unknown force pulled me; it compelled me to walk straight into the ocean._

_My eyes closed automatically as the ocean swallowed me up. Then I heard it. __Music, I heard music. __It was someone playing the piano. The tune was calm and it clashed horribly with the rough ocean that threw my body about. I couldn't breath, my knees scrapped on the sand._

_My fingers itched. I wanted to play along side the pianist. I wanted my violin._

My eyes snapped open and I quickly sat up, breathing heavily.

My fingers still itched.

I carefully touched my face and winced. My face stung. I knew that the area around my mouth and nose had to be bright red. The are was irritated and it burned. Rubbing my eyes, cautiously avoiding my nose and mouth, I got out of bed and stood slowly, looking around. I could smell cleaning solution and a remembered what had happened before I blacked out. The notion that the Phantom had cleaned up my vomit amused me, I was half tempted to heave again and make him clean it up but I didn't.

Pausing from my thought I notice that I could hear a piano being played in the distance.

"Hey!" I knocked on the wall of the room trying to get the Phantoms attention. I wanted answers and I wanted them now. "You can't ignore me forever!"

He kept playing. I didn't know if he was actually ignoring me or if he genuinely couldn't hear me yell. The walls seemed rather thick. After a few minutes of yelling like a fool, I finally gave up and sat back down on the bed in defeat.

My head was still spinning so I closed my eyes and laid my head on the pillow.

Slowly I opened my eyes again, I must have fallen asleep. The Phantom was shaking my shoulders, "You're awake." He stated taking a step back from me. He was probably afraid I would vomit all over him. I was tempted to smile at this thought; he would surely kill me for that. The idea of the Phantom dripping in my vomit amused me greatly.

"Do you think that this time you could drink some water with out vomiting everywhere and then proceeding to faint like a woman?" His voice oozed hate, which was just what I needed, another person that hated my existence.

I nodded, not trusting my voice to work. The last thing I wanted to do was show this man weakness, and my unsteady voice would be an obvious sign. He already thought I was a woman. He handed me a glass. It was the same as the other one, just a simple glass. I took it and thanked him; there was no point in getting on his bad side. I wanted to stay alive as long as possible.

In the back of my mind, I could hear Madame Giry telling the choir's girls to keep their hands at the level of their eyes… It was too late for me though, I was already caught.

When I was done, I handed the empty glass back to him. "Who exactly are you and why did you kidnap me?" I asked.

His lip twitched and for a brief second I though he was going to smile, but he frowned deeply instead. He answered my question with a question. "Who says I kidnapped you?" He studied me for a second before adding. "And I believe you know who I am."

I gulped, so it was true. He was the Phantom of the Opera. "You kidnapped me!" I swallowed my fear and added. "Why else would I be here if I wasn't forced to be. Why am I here, what do you want with me?"

He scowled. "Well dear Vicomte, does it really matter? I think not."

"It matters to-" I was starting to get angry now. The Phantom was insufferable.

"Who's Philippe?"

I paused. "Wait, what?"

I saw his teeth grit together in what looked like frustration. "I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."

The nerve of him, he demanded answers when he refused to give them to me. "I don't see why I have to tell you. You refuse to tell me just why you kidnapped me, so I refuse to tell you anything."

"Tell me now." The anger in his voice compelled me to tell him. There really wasn't any point in refusing the Phantom; it would only get me to my grave faster. I wanted to refuse him, but I didn't want to anger him further.

"Philippe is the only person I have left in the world, he's-" He interrupted me by jumping back away from the bed.

"No more! Quiet, I don't care. You wanted to know why I kidnapped you right. Well I kidnapped you because I felt like it and now if you try to escape me I might just kill you- because I feel like it." He hissed grabbing me harshly by the collar of my white silk shirt. He growled dropping me back onto the bed. I scooted back against the headboard and glared at the Phantom with all the hate I could muster, it wasn't much, I just felt hopeless, not angry. He turned and abruptly walked towards the wood wall. His back was turned so I couldn't see what he was doing but a short second later the wall receded and a passage was revealed.

I stood up and rushed over to him, but it was too late. He was gone and I was alone again.

It was a long time before I saw the Phantom again, it was at least several hours but I wasn't actually sure because there were no clocks anywhere in sight. There wasn't much in the room anyway just the bed and an antique looking table beside the bed. On the table, there was a half-used candle and matches.

That was all that there was in the room. It was bare and very depressing. This was where I was going to spend the rest of my life. Whether my life ended tomorrow or a year from now, it didn't really matter.

When I finally did see the Phantom, again he stormed in the room and tossed me a folded blank piece of paper. "I'm not going to let you go. Nevertheless, if you need to write Philippe a letter and tell him your goodbyes I will not deny you that. Just know that you had better just tell him goodbye, nothing else, don't think that I won't read it either."

I picked up the blank paper and the Phantom handed me a pen. "You're actually going to let me write to my brother."

"No, I said that you can write to Philippe, no one else. You only get one letter."

I paused. Obviously, the Phantom didn't realize that Philippe was my brother. I mentally debated for a few seconds if I should tell him just who Philippe was.

Would that put Philippe in danger?

Why exactly did I even care about Philippe?

He sure as hell didn't really care about me.

However, maybe in my letter I could drop hints about where I was. Hints that maybe someone one would read and care enough to look into. It might not be Philippe who would come looking for me, but at this point I'd take anyone. Maybe he'd take the letter to the police, or the opera managers... someone would come looking for me, at least I hoped so.

It did me no good not telling the Phantom who Philippe was. Therefore, I told him.

"Philippe is my brother."There was no use beating around the bush.

The Phantom's brow furrowed and his eyes squinted as if he was scrutinizing me. "Philippe is your brother?" He repeated back to me slowly, as if I was a mentally impaired child.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself. "That's what I said. He's my older brother." The look on the Phantom's face puzzled me. His eyes, which were normally glaring at me and terrifying, were some how different. I couldn't quite identify why though.

"Write your letter and I shall deliver it to him." He took several steps back and leaned against the wall obviously not going anywhere. "I promised you a letter to him, and I will deliver my promise."

In the back of my mind, I knew that this should be harder for me to do that it actually was. I should at least feel sorrow. This was the official moment where I left my name and title behind, and was basically dead to the world. Being a Vicomte wouldn't help me now, not while I was down in these dark and secluded tunnels.

I was completely sealed off from the rest of society, and all I could think about was that Philippe was going to go through my things and find my violin. He'd burn it for sure. I picked up the pen and began writing my last farewells to my brother.

_dear philippe,_

_Thank you for all that you have done for me my brother. Hopefully I haven't been too much of a disappointment to you. Each offence that i have caused you, or anyone else for that matter, i apologize for._

_Please. Have no harsh feeling against me. All i can say is that this is something i must do. No, don't try to come looking for me. That would not be a wise decision. Opening this letter means that i'm fine and you needn't worry. My safety is in my own hands now._

_Happiness is all that i wish for you. Also for christine. So this is a good bye letter._

_Many blessings to the rest of the family, Especially towards you._

_m. le vicomte raoul de chagny_

I signed the note quickly and folded it. Then I handed it to the Phantom. He opened it up and read what I had just written.

I worried my lip and avoided his eyes. I prayed to every God that I knew he wouldn't discover my secret message. The Phantom stared at the letter for a long time, and then he refolded the note and slipped it in his pocket. I let out a breath I hadn't known that I was holding. "You're going to take this note directly to my house?"

He nodded and turned away from me. His gloved hand pressed firmly against the wall. "A correction to your previous statement my dear Vicomte, this is your home now. You had better get use to it. You're not going anywhere." He pushed the wall and it creaked open.

"Wait!" I called out "Hear me out."

The Phantom paused and turned back towards me.

"If you're going to take the letter to my brother, would you please retrieve something for me?" I scooted over to the side over the bed and tried to look as serious and as compelling as possible.

"I don't think so." He added, "And just what makes you think that I would I retrieve something for you." He snarled at me and slammed the door shut. It crashed loudly and I couldn't help but sigh.

All I wanted was my violin.

If I was going to be stuck in this hellhole with the Phantom, I wanted a way to spend my time, some other way than laying around succumbing to my great depression. I screamed. My hands came and buried themselves into my long blonde hair and my frustrated cries echoed through out the room. I didn't want to feel sorry for myself, but how could my life get any worse?


End file.
